


Cut, Cut Paste

by tvparty18



Series: So If You're Leaving, Walk Slow. [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 15:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvparty18/pseuds/tvparty18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke reevalutes the "thing" she has with Bellamy and just can't stay away. This takes place before (but is mentioned in) Do You Still Hate Me?.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut, Cut Paste

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song of the same name by Tokyo Police Club. P.S. I re-edited this and cleaned it up a bit. D'oh.

_“And that’s how we first kiss, it’s something I still miss. You think I've lost my mind. ‘Is this blood his or mine?’ Cause when we kiss our scars align.” –Tokyo Police Club_

This is probably the tenth time Clarke has felt her stomach curl at the feeling of Bellamy’s arm wrapped around her waist. She hates that feeling, hates that she likes that feeling. New Years was just supposed to be a kiss then it had lead to a one-night stand that seemed to be on a loop for them. This secret of theirs was growing too quickly, forming a mind of its own. Clarke got a jolt of reality every time she had to scour Bellamy’s floor for a missing piece of clothing, every time a text from him dinged through when her shift ended at the hospital, every time she smiled at his heavy knock on her door.

Ever since New Years, things with Bellamy had been...different. They had certainly seen a lot more of each other. It seems like almost every other day they were making plans for some secret tryst. Clarke hates that word, tryst, but that’s what it is. They never actually talk about it, never touch on whether they should tell anyone. In Clarke’s mind, it seems easier. It's just about sex, just a void to fill the loneliness. It seems that she and Bellamy have come to an unspoken agreement in those regards. He waits until Raven is out to come over to her apartment. She makes excuses when she goes to his. They never mention anything, make sure to keep their distance amongst their friends and it works.

But then Clarke starts noticing that butterfly feeling in her stomach whenever Bellamy touches her. Not even in a sexual way but when he slids behind her to get a glass out of Octavia’s kitchen and their shoulders touch or when their knees accidentally bump under the table at the restaurant. It's bad enough when they accidentally fall asleep a handful of times and wake up looking like conjoined twins; not knowing whose limbs belongs to whose body. She would never admit it but Clarke could probably tell you just how many goosebumps the feeling of Bellamy’s snores vibrating on her skin produce.

She knows she's getting attached and she doesn't want that. Bellamy's a fuck and run kind of guy and she knows it's casual for him. It's supposed to be light and fun and something to fill to emptiness but it needs to end. It has to end before it goes too far.

The familiar curling feeling in her stomach wakes Clarke up on Monday morning and while she’s rummaging around Bellamy’s apartment looking for her shirt she can’t keep the huff in.

"What?" He asks, buckling his belt .

Clarke can’t help but let her eyes linger on his bare chest before answering, "We've gotta stop this."

His arm’s extended in mid air, reaching for his shirt when he looks her square in the eye. “If that’s what you want.”

"I don't know what I want." She huffs again and spying her shirt, pulls it out from underneath his bed.

“You should probably figure that out.” He yanks his shirt on and waits at the door for her to leave.

When Jason started at the hospital in February, the first thing Clarke noticed about him was how nice he was. He wasn’t a challenge, he didn’t really like confrontation, and he seemed to like Clarke an awful lot.

That's part of the problem. She likes working with him. He's a great anesthesiologist and always comes through when she needs him but that's it. She likes having a buddy at work, someone to chitchat with over coffee breaks but she is in no way interested outside of the hospital. 

Clarke's been putting Jason off for a while now. Every two weeks or so an invitation gets extended for some outside of work activity: dinner, movies, a band playing at some club, drinks, coffee, a play. She doesn't want to say ‘no’ outright. They have a good working relationship, barely know each other on any kind of personal level, and Clarke wants to maintain that. She also gets the impression that Jason's the kind of guy who would rue the day he was “friendzoned” and she really doesn't want to deal with that. So she keeps making excuses: friend’s birthday, parents are visiting, visiting parents, movie night at friend’s, girl’s night.

The one excuse she doesn't include but probably should is, of course, “Sorry, Jason. Can’t do drinks tonight. I’m going to stop by Bellamy’s for a quickie and then straight to bed. Thanks, though.” That may actually work.

But, in all seriousness, she's running out of excuses.

He never asks her anything personal and she feels awkward slipping in a side comment about “seeing someone” or “on again off again thing.” She isn't even sure what the hell was going on and she wants to try and avoid any work unease at all. Her personal life is uneasy enough.

So maybe Jason just happens to pick the right day to ask her out again because when he corners her at the start of her double shift after her tense morning with Bellamy and asks her to get drinks at a bar his friend has been raving about later that night, she practically shouts out a “yes.”

Monday night is a weird night for a date but it's the only night Jason isn't on call and Clarke manages to get someone to switch shifts at the last minute so it seems like something. Come five o'clock she’s digging through her closet, trying to find the best date outfit all the while wishing she were going to game night instead.

Octavia, with her magical ability to force bonding on people, has enacted a “Family Game Night” on Monday nights at her and Lincoln’s apartment. Clarke is rarely able to go because of her Monday night shift but every time she checks her phone on break, some idiot has usually sent her an update. Sometimes she longs to be apart of the camaraderie of game night, instead of stuck at the hospital, or, in this case, stressing over a stupid date. 

Clarke’s got her dress half on and is seriously debating canceling when her phone rings. She picks it up and is met with Octavia’s brilliant smile.

“Hey O.” She says gruffly, putting her friend on speaker and shuffling around looking for shoes.

“You’re really going through with this date, huh?” 

Clarke can hear laughter in the background. “I’m debating. Who’s laughing?”

Octavia obviously has her hand over the phone but Clarke can still hear her scolding someone. She huffs before she starts talking to Clarke again. “Bellamy. He’s such a douche. Hang on.” She doesn’t bother to cover the receiver this time. “At least Clarke’s putting herself out there. When was the last time you got laid, huh? You just skulk around all the time like the human version of a Smiths’ song.” Clarke hears Bellamy grumble but can’t make out his words. “Such an ass. Anyway, have a good time tonight. What’re you wearing?”

Clarke finally twists on her dress and is trying her best to ignore Bellamy’s reaction to her date. “That black dress?”

“Ooooh yeah. Your ass looks great in that. Okay! Have fun, okay!”

“I’ll try. You too!” Octavia lets out a loud guffaw before she hangs up the phone.

Clarke had offered to meet Jason at the bar but he had insisted on picking her up. The quick ride is fairly quiet, talking back and forth about the day’s events. When they get to the bar, a nice place that Clarke and her friends probably wouldn’t have dared entered, he seems to loosen up a bit. He answers all of Clarke’s questions and offers anecdotes and stories from his life. By the second drink, Clarke knows all about him: he’s a Patriots fan, he’s allergic to peanut butter, his favorite movie’s The Godfather, he had a Lab growing up who got hit by a car. But that was the problem…two drinks and almost an hour and a half in and he hadn’t asked Clarke one single thing about herself. So Clarke tests him. She asks questions where the obvious response should end with…”what do you think?” and gets nothing. She figures it’s fine, she tried it, whatever but then he puts his hand on her thigh and she’s so done. Boring and self-absorbed is one thing but touchy after being boring and self-absorbed is another. 

As Jason leaves their table to get another round, Clarke quickly swipes her phone and texts the first person in her contacts list.

Clarke (7:47): SOS pleaseeee worst date ever

Bellamy (7:48): Have fun with that, Princess.

She should’ve known he would’ve been no help. But, if she’s being honest, he has every right to be a dick. She did kind of, after a morning of pretty fantastic sex, tell him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. So maybe it was a bad idea to text him. But…there are others.

When Jason comes back with the drinks, she excuses herself and sneaks off to the bathroom, dialing the Blake she knows is bound to help her. She has to call twice before Octavia answers but breathes out a sigh of relief when she finally does.

“It’s not even eight o’clock, Griffin.” She can hear what sounds like Monty “shhhing” people in the background.

“It’s awful. He’s so boring and all he does is talk about himself and he’s really not even that cute and this bar is so pretentious…they don’t even have beer and he tried to order me some fancy thing and scoffed at my vodka tonic and please help me out.”

Octavia laughs but has to decency to try and turn it into a cough. “All right fine. I’ll figure something out. Do you want to see this guy again?

“Not really. I didn’t want to completely shut him down because we work together but if I don't figure it out, he's going to keep asking me out. 

“Gotcha. Can you give me a half an hour? You're at that place on Falls, right? The Ark?

“Yeah that's it. I love you! You’re my hero!”

“Yeah, yeah. You totally should've nipped this one in the bud but you hadddd to be nice.” Octavia hangs up before Clarke has time to admit she's right. 

Clarke moseys back to the table and attempts to look as innocent as possible. She sips her drink and continues the conversation as if she’s having the best time in the world when the door to the bar bangs open. Clarke turns in surprise and can feel her eyes grow wider at the sight of Bellamy in the doorway. It must’ve started raining because he’s soaking wet and his old leather jacket is sticking to him. She tries to ignore the romance novel cliché that is playing out in her head as she locks eyes with him and he storms over to her table. She can’t take her eyes off of him but she can feel Jason’s stare on her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bellamy’s voice is eerily calm and it sends an involuntary shiver down her spine.

“Bellamy, this is Jason, from work.” She gestures between the two men who nod at each other but show no other sign of acknowledgement. “We’re just getting drinks.”

Bellamy lets out an angry chuckle, “Yeah, sure.”

“How’d you even find me?”

“Octavia.” He runs a hand through his wet hair and Clarke tries to ignore the stray water droplet that she follows all the way down his neck. “Listen, I know we’ve been going through a rough patch, especially after the baby and everything, but I love you, Clarke.”

She can feel her cheeks reddening as Jason finally speaks, “What baby?”

Bellamy chuckles darkly again, “She didn’t tell you…” He looks at Clarke with a grimace but then his eyes are on Jason, “We lost a baby a little while ago. Things haven’t been the same. I’ve been staying at my sister’s.” 

Clarke is dumbfounded and completely angry. Vindictive asshole that he is, he must be loving this. He couldn’t have made an excuse about Monty being in a car accident or something. She’s about to respond when Bellamy starts again, “I went to the apartment….to our apartment tonight to try and work things out but you weren’t there. I’ve missed you so much these past couple months.”

At least he’s giving her an out, “Bell…I’m…” then she looks at Jason and tries to force a few tears, “I’m sorry Jason. I should go. Thanks for tonight. I’ll see you at the hospital.”

Jason looks for a minute like he’s going to stop her but Bellamy’s eyes narrow and he stays in his seat. Clarke throws on her coat and practically runs out of the bar leaving Bellamy to trail behind her.

She’s halfway up the street when she hears his voice, “Parked on the left, Princess.”

She can’t help herself when she doubles back and punches him in the arm. “You.” Punch. “Are.” Punch. “Such.” Punch. “An asshole!” Punch. Punch. Punch.

“Ow! Jesus! I just saved your ass!” He unlocks the door and slumps into his car. She hates his car; it’s way too small for him. Something he bought used back when he was in college that clangs every time he turns right and smells like mold whenever it rains. Clarke crams herself into the front seat and glares at him while he turns the key three times before it starts. “O told me to come and get you. Told me not to hurt the guy but to make it so he never asked you out again. That’s what I came up with.” Like he can read her mind, he continues, “If we had said it was an emergency or accident or something he would’ve been able to check the hospital records. I figured the baby and emotional ex-boyfriend would’ve scared him away enough.”

She’s already playing with his radio presets. “You’re still an asshole.”

“Stop fucking with my radio. You lost the privilege when you walked out this morning.” 

“I didn’t walk out, you escorted me out.”

Clarke’s more than a little surprised when Bellamy stops the car on the side of a downtrodden alley, puts it in park and turns to look at her. “You’re the one who wanted to end” he gestures between the two of them, “this.” He’s angry, she’d know that look anywhere, but there’s something else in his eyes, something Clarke can’t quite put her finger on but it consumes her.

Before she can register what she’s doing, Clarke’s unbuckling her seatbelt and maneuvering herself so she’s half on top of him and kissing him with all the force she can muster. He kisses her back with equal fervor, unbuckling his own seat belt and leaning into her when she feels a familiar pain in her lower back.

Clarke pulls away from the kiss to grumble, “I hate your car so much. The gear shift is practically in my ass.”

Bellamy sighs and leans in to kiss her again but she’s already crawling into the back seat and sliding off her underwear from under her dress.

She can see his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallows, “I thought you didn’t want this anymore.”

She sighs, “I’m confused, Bellamy. We hate each other; you know that. But I also know, that right now, I want you so bad I could scream. And then I want to go to game night.”

He chuckles, a real chuckle, and clambers back to meet her. It’s fast and dirty because they both are very aware that they’re in the back of the world’s smallest car, in some neighborhood not too far from where Bellamy teaches, and are going to be very late for game night.

Clarke has no idea what the hell she’s doing. Ever since New Years, her brain stops functioning where Bellamy is concerned. She can’t stand him, she keeps telling herself. He’s been Octavia’s annoying older brother for as long as she can remember but for some reason, she’s drawn to him. She doesn’t have time to date, doesn’t want to put the effort into having a boyfriend but she can’t stand the thought of not having Bellamy to herself, not having Bellamy like this. She only remembers feeling this way with one other person, Lexa, and that had almost destroyed her. Finn had been a distraction, someone she truly pretended she could love because he seemed safe but Lexa had been a force, a storm and Bellamy isn’t all that different. 

At some point in the back of the car she bites his lip and he bites hers back and there’s a small coopery taste in her mouth, barely there but she isn’t sure whom it’s coming from. Bellamy unnerves her, makes her feral. She tried to end it that morning because she's vulnerable when she’s with him, second-guesses herself. She feels uneasy letting her guard down.

But Clarke’ll never admit that she sort of likes feeling open like that, half dressed in Bellamy’s lap just waiting to get caught. On the drive back to Octavia’s she has his interior light on and is checking to make sure her makeup is pristine and her hair just right when she sees it: the blossoming purple mark just above her collarbone. 

“Dammit, Bellamy!” She punches him hard in the arm and smirks when the car jerks slightly.

“Ow! What now?” He asks trying to side eye her while she drives. She punches him again. “Stop hitting me!”

“There’s a hickey on my neck.”

He has the audacity to laugh so she punches him again. “I. AM. DRIVING.” When he’s stopped at a red light, he turns her shoulder so he can see the offending mark. “Don’t you have makeup?”

“Not on me.” She sighs and points to the road when he misses the light change, “maybe they won’t notice.”

As soon as Jasper opens the door it begins, “Looks like the date wasn’t all that bad.”

“Ha. Ha.” Clarke mutters as she passes him into the apartment with Bellamy behind her muttering something about traffic.

Raven shrugs when she spies the mark, “At least you got something.”

“Thanks, Raven.” Clarkes follows Bellamy into the kitchen to get a drink and they both miss the pointed look and quirked eye Octavia makes at their retreating backs.

When everyone is all played out and the games are packed away, Bellamy drives Clarke home. Raven had left to go to Wick’s so Clarke doesn’t think it’s too risky when she invites Bellamy up. He leaves in the middle of the night but doubles back, knocking quietly on her door, to ask if she wants to get coffee in the morning. There’s a place on Mount Royal by his school that he likes.

Despite her better judgment, Clarke walks into the coffee shop at 6:45 and is taken aback by Mr. Blake, high school history teacher. He’s already at a table, papers splayed out before him. He has the sleeves of his checkered button down rolled up to his elbows, black tie tied but flung over his shoulder, and the glasses she’s never seen him wear ever are sliding down his nose. He gives a very small smile when he sees her, takes off his glasses, and starts to pack up his papers.

“You can leave them,” Clarke says, returning the smile.

“I was a little early,” he shrugs, “But I haven’t gotten anything yet.”

They make their way to the counter and Clarke insists on paying as a thank you for his rescue the night before. Their conversation is fairly sluggish given the early hour and the lack of sleep both of them got but they still maintain a good rapport. Bellamy probes Clarke with questions about the hospital, she laughs at how he wants all the gross details. He flips through his stack of papers and shows her the ones he likes the most, speaking proudly of his students. She marvels at how easy it is. They gib each other and have dumb arguments about which episode of the Simpsons is the best but it's amiable and casual and Clarke has to continually repeat "this is nothing, we're just fucking" in her head over and over again like a mantra. The mantra doesn't stop her from showing up at the coffee shop the following Tuesday after her shift ends. She's exhausted and a mess and didn't bother to change out of her scrubs but she still notices Bellamy's smile when she plops down across from him. "This is nothing, we're just fucking." 

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Since the first one got such a wonderful response I thought I’d write a follow up. Not too sure about it. This story is actually mentioned in “Do You Still Hate Me?” (…the last date Clarke went on was so awful she begged Bellamy to make the “emergency phone call” and they ended up having sex in the back of his car after he picked her up) so I guess it’s sort of a prequel. Thanks for reading!


End file.
